


for the first time i had something to lose

by sinandmisery



Series: Tumblr Dialogue Prompts [2]
Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, aka Helena gets shot and Dinah takes care of her, because what is fic for if not for reliving the same tropes a million different ways?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23188195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinandmisery/pseuds/sinandmisery
Summary: "You're trembling." // Most nights go according to plan. Tonight, however, is not one of those nights.
Relationships: Helena Bertinelli/Dinah Lance
Series: Tumblr Dialogue Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667119
Comments: 17
Kudos: 247





	for the first time i had something to lose

**Author's Note:**

> Look, this was a 200ish word response to a prompt on tumblr that suddenly took on a life of its own because apparently, we (as a collective fandom) love to see Helena get injured just so Dinah can take care of her.

Most nights go according to plan. They take out some bad guys, deal with whatever stolen goods or drugs or money is left behind, and then go out to eat after, left with sore muscles and scrapes that can easily be dealt with by a hot shower and a first aid kit. Sure, there's the occasional deeper cut that might need a stitch or two, or a bruise that takes a week longer to heal than normal, but the point is - it's nothing to worry about. 

Tonight, however, is not one of those nights. It feels like the night against Roman's army, with bad guys coming in endless waves from all directions, except they're down a person and the environment isn't nearly as versatile for taking people out. 

Dinah's lost count of the number of people they've taken out as they've made their way through the warehouse, but she knows it's a lot; she can feel the ache and exhaustion setting in, even through the adrenaline of the fight. They're working on what appears to be the last group of goons left standing - and if there's more, Dinah's using the cry, unpleasant side effects be damned. 

"Canary, where's Bertinelli?" Renee shouts over the sound of a guy grunting and falling to the ground from a well placed set of brass knuckles to the kidneys. She stomps on his left hand to make him release the gun, and kicks him once more for good measure.

Dinah, busy with two guys of her own, takes one guy out with a roundhouse, ducks the other's charge, and says, "Shit, I don't know." 

Renee cracks the second guy circling Dinah in the back of his head with the butt of his partner's gun and kicks out his knees from behind, causing him to crumple to the ground. "Go find her, I got this," she says, tucking the gun into the empty holster on her hip and dropping into a fighting stance as the final two goons charge at her.

Dinah hesitates for a moment, not wanting to leave Renee without backup, but then Renne punches one of the guys square in the jaw with the brass knuckles so hard two of his teeth go flying and shouts, "Go!"

She quickly makes her way through the rows of stacked boxes in the warehouse, backtracking to find Helena. 

"H?" She calls, squinting into the darkness. There's no response at first, but then she hears a hoarse cough, so she tries again. "Helena?"

"Over here," Helena manages, coughing again.

Dinah rushes to the next row over and finds Helena sitting, propped up against a stack of wooden crates, blood smeared down the side of them that stops just where she's sitting. There's a small cut on along her jaw, but the blood streaked down her neck is not near enough to have stopped her. "H, what the fuck happened?" 

"Shot me," she says, pointing at her left shoulder, a gaping hole spilling blood down Helena's dark jacket, barely noticeable in the dim light of the warehouse. 

"Shit. Shit shit shit," Dinah curses, ripping off her own jacket and tying it around Helena's shoulder in a makeshift tourniquet to stem the blood flow as she hears Renee approaching.

"Montoya, go get the car."

"Wha-"

" _Now_ ," Dinah shouts, and Renee turns around without hesitation, darting for the car. 

"Hey," Dinah says, turning back toward Helena and smiling at her. "You lost a lot of blood, okay? We're gonna get you out of here, but I'm gonna need you to walk with me. Can you do that?"

Helena nods, the stuttered motion not doing much to convince Dinah that she actually can. She feels a sudden surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, and although she's fairly certain she could manage to pick Helena up and carry her to the car, she really doesn't want to try. Instead, she grabs Helena's crossbow from her hand, then uses the uninjured arm to slowly haul her up from the floor, tossing it around her own shoulder as they head for the exit.

Renee meets them at the door, car engine running, and helps load Helena into the backseat, her head resting in Dinah's lap. 

"Hospital," Dinah orders before turning her attention back to Helena. She's paler than normal, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, and Dinah tries her best to stay calm for Helena's sake as Renee speeds through the streets of Gotham.

"How do you feel?" Dinah asks, brushing the hair off Helena's forehead and leaving streaks of Helena's own blood on her cool, clammy skin.

"Like I got shot," Helena deadpans, voice scratchy and weak.

"You're trembling," Dinah says, her own voice unsteady as she tugs at the makeshift tourniquet wrapped around the bullet hole in Dinah's shoulder, pulling it tighter.

"'M cold," Helena mutters, eyes drifting shut.

"Hey, no no no. None of that." Dinah says, shaking her gently. "Open your eyes for me, H. Just a few more minutes, okay?"

Helena's eyes flutter open, meeting Dinah's, and she smiles, soft and sleepy. "You're so pretty," she mumbles, and Dinah smiles back at her, burying the overwhelming panic she feels swelling in her chest. "Mmm... Like it when you smile at me."

"Yeah?" 

"Mmmhmmm. Makes m'wanna kiss you."

"Alright, Killer," Dinah says with a laugh, actively choosing to ignore the looks Renee is giving her in the rearview mirror and the hammering of her own heart that she knows isn't just from the anxiety over Helena's injury. "That's just the blood loss talking."

"Nope," Helena insists, shaking her head. "S'true."

"Tell you what," Dinah says, just as Renee pulls up in the emergency bay. "You make it out of this and we'll talk, okay?"

"’m gonna hold you to it," Helena says as Dinah helps drag her out of the car and into the hospital.

"I look forward to it."

\---

Dinah hates hospitals - has hated them ever since she was a kid and she had to spend a week in one for a bad case of pneumonia - but finds that sitting in the waiting room can be even worse than being the one confined to the hospital bed. The minutes pass like hours, and Dinah is pretty sure every nurse at the desk wants to kill her, but she's restless and no one will tell her anything other than _no, we can't let you into the triage area_ and _I'm sure everything is just fine_ with placating smiles that only serve to irritate her further.

Renee is long gone - after bringing Dinah a change of clothes, coffee, and sandwich from a 24 hour deli, Dinah had sent her home with promises to let her know if there was anything to worry about - but fueled by adrenaline, worry, approximately a gallon of burnt black coffee from the vending machine and half a pack of chain-smoked cigarettes, Dinah is wide awake and sitting in the waiting room when Helena's discharged at nearly 2 am. She sighs in relief when she sees Helena - a scowl on her face and arm wrapped up in a sling - being wheeled out to the waiting area by a young nurse. Dinah stands from the chair, practically running across the waiting room to meet them.

The nurse smiles at Dinah as she comes to a stop in front of them and says, "You must be Dinah."

"Uh, yeah," Dinah says distractedly as she gives Helena a once over, taking stock of all the superficial injuries as well as the most obvious one. There are a few butterfly bandages on the cut on her jaw, a light purple bruise blooming behind it, and all the small abrasions on her hands have been thoroughly cleaned and treated. She's wearing Dinah's jacket - the one that was used as the tourniquet, but is now (thankfully) blood-free - and she briefly wonders if they had to cut Helena's own jacket and shirt away to stitch her up.

"Everything's good, nothing beyond some muscle and tendon damage, which should heal easily with some rest and PT," she says, drawing Dinah's attention back to her. "We already went over the discharge instructions with Miss Bertinelli, but there's some pain medication and antibiotics in here-" she gestures at a plastic bag hanging from the handles of the chair. "Her next dose isn't until nine am. Keep the shoulder elevated, and keep the area dry for the next 24 hours, but make sure you change the dressing. There's some extra gauze and tape in here, as well as instructions on how to keep it clean. Showers are okay, but no baths and no strenuous activity until the stitches are out, which will be in about 10 to 14 days. If you have any questions, give us a call, okay?"

"Thank you," Dinah says, nodding as she tries to mentally catalogue everything. "I'll try to keep her out of trouble."

"Alright, then you're good to go," the nurse says, gesturing for Dinah to take the handles of the chair. 

"My legs are fine," Helena complains, trying to get out of the chair as Dinah steps behind it.

"Nope, Doctor's orders," Dinah says, flashing the nurse a smile when she chuckles. "Just sit your ass down until we get outside."

Helena huffs and goes to cross her arms, then huffs again when she realizes the sling is preventing her from doing so.

Dinah laughs and puts her hand on Helena's good shoulder, squeezing gently. "You'll be fine, H. It'll be our secret."

There's already a cab waiting at the curbstand when they make it outside, and Dinah's thankful they don't have to wait any longer, exhaustion settling into her bones now that she knows everything is alright. Dinah gives the driver her address, and Helena, thankfully, doesn't put up a fight, just leans her head against Dinah's shoulder and dozes off. 

\---

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Dinah whispers, squeezing Helena's leg gently after she's swiped her debit card and paid the driver. "We're here."

"Wha- huh?" Helena jolts awake, blinking and looking around like a startled animal.

"We're at my place," Dinah offers gently and Helena visibly relaxes. "Let's go get some sleep, yeah?"

"Sounds good," Helena says with a yawn.

They make their way into the building and up to Dinah's apartment, Helena shuffling behind sleepily. She heads for the couch as soon as they enter, and Dinah grabs for the wrist of her uninjured arm.

"Nuh uh," she says tugging her down the hall and into her bedroom. "You're not sleeping on the couch after the night you had."

"'S fine," Helena insists, yawning again.

"It's not." Dinah's tone leaves no room for negotiation, and Helena doesn't try, so she opens a drawer and rifles through the clothes, handing over a pair of shorts and an old button down flannel shirt. "There's a spare toothbrush in the drawer next to the sink. You need anything else?"

"Uh- maybe some water?" Helena asks. She wavers awkwardly at the door for a moment and then heads for the bathroom.

Dinah strips out of the clothes Renee had brought her at the hospital and immediately tosses them in the pile of dirty clothes spilling out of her hamper, then pulls on her own t-shirt and shorts before getting Helena's glass of water from the kitchen. She carries in a few pillows from the couch, building a makeshift recliner for Helena to rest on and keep her arm elevated. When she finishes all of that and Helena's still not out of the bathroom, she knocks lightly.

"Everything okay in there?"

"Um," Helena starts, and Dinah can hear her shuffling around for a moment and a string of curses before she follows up with, "Might need your help?"

"I'm coming in, ok?"

"Yeah."

Dinah enters the room slowly, locks eyes with Helena in the mirror, and smiles when she sees the predicament. Helena's face is red, either from frustration or embarrassment - maybe both - and the jacket hangs off her right shoulder, the left still caught up with the sling. 

"Alright, c'mere," Dinah says, stepping in front of her. She starts with the sling - wills her fingers steady as she loosens the strap around her neck, tries to ignore the way they brush against her clavicle, tells herself she's imagining Helena's shiver when they do. _Now is not the time_ , she tells herself as she holds the sling up and helps Helena duck her head out of it instead of raising her arm to remove it. She sets it down on the counter behind her and reaches for the jacket, tucking her fingers under the collar and peeling it away from her skin, careful to avoid dragging the fabric against the bandage.

After dropping the jacket on a hook behind the door, she grabs the shirt and helps guide it on, first the injured arm and then the other, before working on the buttons. After the shirt comes the sling, which she fidgets with and adjusts more than necessary, but she can feel Helena's eyes on her as she works, and she can't bring herself to look up, lest she lose the small bit of control she's currently clinging to. 

"Good?" Dinah asks, adjusting the collar on the shirt to keep the sling from irritating Helena's neck. 

"Yeah," Helena says nodding slowly. "Thanks."

"Good," Dinah says, yawning. "Because I'm exhausted."

Helena laughs when she enters the room and sees the bed piled high with pillows on one side, "This is probably overkill," she says, yawning as she relaxes into the pillows, "but it's definitely way more comfortable than your couch."

Dinah just chuckles softly as she climbs in beside her, asleep before her head hits the pillow. 

\---

Dinah wakes first in the morning, the sun through the curtains glaring against her face assuring she won't be able to go back to sleep. The clock on her nightstand reads 9:17, so she slips out of bed and puts on a hoodie before scrounging up some sort of breakfast so Helena can take her next dose of antibiotics. Her fridge is relatively bare, but there are a few eggs and some bread for toast, so she sets out some silverware and plates and gets to cooking. By the time the coffee finishes brewing, Helena's made her way out of the bedroom.

"Mornin'," she mutters, dropping into one of the stools at the breakfast bar in the kitchen and chugging down the remainder of her water from the night before. 

"Mornin'," Dinah replies with a smile, swapping the empty glass for a cup of coffee before dropping two slices of bread in the toaster. "How ya feelin?"

"Stiff," Helena says, flexing the hand of her injured arm and wincing. "This sucks."

"I'm sure it does. You gave me and Montoya a scare last night,"Dinah says, disappearing into the living room and returning with Helena's pills. She places them on the bar with a refilled glass of water and watches as Helena swallows them quickly, resisting the urge to run her fingers through Helena's hair in an attempt to calm the bedhead, until the toaster pops, startling them both.

"Well, thanks for taking care of me," Helena says, straightening the silverware on the bar so everything is perfectly lined up. 

"Of course," Dinah says, waving her hand dismissively as she sets their plates down on the bar.

Their knees bump against each other as Dinah settles on the barstool, but Helena doesn't pull away so neither does Dinah, and they eat their breakfast in relative silence, pressed together for no reason at all. 

\---

When she finishes her food, Helena places her silverware on her plate and sits up a little straighter, fidgeting with the strap on the sling. Dinah instantly notices the change in body language, but doesn't comment on it, giving Helena her own time to approach whatever topic is on her mind. 

"So, um... last night-" she starts, not making eye contact. "On the way to the hospital, I- I may have said some things..."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of things?" Dinah asks innocently, swiveling on the barstool so she's fully facing her, feet tangled on the rungs of Helena's stool as she shifts closer.

"Um- Things that were definitely a result of too much blood loss."

"So," Dinah says, taking a sip of her coffee to hide the smile threatening to break out on her face. "You don't think I'm pretty?" 

"No!" Helena shouts. "I mean- Yes! I- yes, of course you are," she says, finally looking over at Dinah. "That's- you know that. You have to know that."

"Yeah? So then you _do_ like it when I smile at you?" Dinah teases, grinning brightly at Helena, whose cheeks turn a lovely shade of crimson as she tries to stutter out a response.

"Dinah- I-" she starts and then sighs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Did you mean it?" Dinah asks, gently prodding.

Helena doesn't answer, but Dinah can see the muscles in her jaw working, clenching and unclenching like she's fighting against herself to keep from speaking, so she takes a calculated risk and leans forward, one hand on the back of the barstool, the other cupping Helena's uninjured cheek. "You shouldn't apologize for the things you want," she whispers before pressing her lips to the corner of Helena's mouth, lingering a moment longer than appropriate for _just friends_.

She moves to pull away, but then Helena tilts her head, capturing Dinah's top lip between her own, and they're _kissing_ \- soft and unsure, but definitely _kissing_ \- and Dinah can't help but smile. Her tongue drags across chapped lips that taste of black coffee before licking into Helena's mouth, warm and inviting.

It's Helena who pulls away first, breathless and panting, forehead resting against Dinah's. "I guess I need to get shot more often," she says, smiling.

"Don't you dare," Dinah scolds, and - cautious of Helena's injury - she fists her hands in the lapels of her shirt and pulls her further forward, eager to make up for all the months she's thought about doing exactly this and didn't. 


End file.
